Her upper lip curls and she bares her teeth. But then a look flashes across her eye and she nods stiffly.
“Yes, it’s fine.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Again, I want to scream, to take the words back.
Every morning when I get ready for work, I promise myself I’ll speak more assertively, more confidently.
The whole reason I applied for this job was so I could be more like the women I see walking through the city every single day, in their stylish work clothes, and their unconquerable confidence.
So far, I’ve failed, failed hard.
Carmen lingers and then takes a step forward.
“You don’t have to thank me, Jessie. In fact, that’s a habit you should break as quickly as you can. Thank you will get you eaten by the sharks quicker than if you slit yourself open and leaped into the ocean. Save those words for rare occasions, when it really matters.”
I feel my cheeks blooming red, the same way they do every time she speaks to me in this way. It’s like she’s expecting me to miraculously change my entire personality in the space of a few weeks.
She places her hands on the table, tapping her perfectly manicured finger. “Do you know why you got this job?”
“My cover letter,” I answer, glad I can pass this test, at least.
“Exactly.” She nods, causing her glittering earrings to jingle-jangle. “When I read about how you would sit at that café window, watching all those women pass you by, and how you wished you could be like them – confident, forthright, ready to take on the world… when I read all of that, do you know who I thought of?”
She slams her hand on the desk, causing me to jump and pens to leap around.
“Myself,” she declares dramatically. “I thought of myself. That’s exactly how I was when I was your age. Nervous. Shy. Withdrawn. But I changed myself. I forced myself to change. I think it’s time you started doing the same.”
We’ve been over this speech several times during the past few weeks, and every time I feel like I’ve disappointed her. But I don’t know what she wants me to do, how she wants me to demonstrate this change.
“I’m trying,” I tell her, hating the quiver in my voice. “I really am.”
“I know you are.” A smile touches her lips. “I don’t mean to be tough on you, Jessie. You’re a good worker, diligent and conscientious. There are companies that wouldn’t even think twice about hiring you without a college degree. But like I said, I saw – I see – something in you.”
My mind snags on her correction.
She saw, she sees.
But she said saw first, as though she’s starting to doubt her instincts. I’m just not sure what to do.
Maybe she wants me to charge into the next meeting and slam some amazing proposal down on the conference table like this is a Hollywood movie.
“Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.” She turns and strides for the door. “I want those notes in my inbox ten minutes ago, so get to it.”
Letting out an unsteady breath – those weird confrontations with Carmen always leave me shaken – I rush to finish the final page. As my fingers whisper across the keyboard, my eyes fixated on Jaxon’s notes, I promise myself I’ll be better, more outgoing, less meek when I’m in the break room.
Maybe I’ll try and make some friends.
But I promised myself the same thing yesterday, and the day before, and the day before.
Even if this office is small and there’s only one window, I like it. It’s cozy. It’s safe. It’s the perfect place to hide.
Just me and my fantasies, my stupid impossible fantasies.
Chapter Two
Jaxon
My whole body is itching for the gym, my suit feeling like it fits too tightly, like the walls are closing in on me. It gets like this sometimes, even if this is the life I chose, the life I’m proud of.
But hell.
A man needs to sweat, to lift heavy shit, to feel like a beast when he’s spent the last several hours in front of a computer. My mind is full of plans and figures and projections, so I’m glad when Carmen leans forward and presses the button to end the conference call.
Sitting back, I let out a relieved sigh, ready to leap to my feet and stride across my large office. There’s an elevator right at the back which leads to my private garage, and from there it’s a short walk to my sedan and then a quick drive to the gym.
But then Carmen leans forward, placing her hands on the desk. She’s looking at me in that solid unflinching way of hers, which is one of the things that makes her such a good assistant.
I don’t think Carmen has ever once sugar coated anything in her whole life.
“There’s been another.”